


Crowley discovers the fandom

by Paradise_Seeker



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley discovers the show, Human labels don't apply to them, M/M, Meta, and the fan theories, and the fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 05:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20148712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_Seeker/pseuds/Paradise_Seeker
Summary: Spend six millennia on Earth and you're bound to leave some trace of yourself in History, somehow. (He did not expect it to go this way.)





	1. The discovery

Spend six millennia on Earth and you're bound to leave some trace of yourself in History, somehow.

(Not just about the Garden, and the First Temptation and all that, he's very well known for that, thank you very much.)

The thing that has always amused him is how much anonymity he's getting. Everyone knows of the Serpent. You can find Bibles literally everywhere. He's depicted in so many paintings it's almost embarrassing (none of them look like him, not a single one of them.)

And besides, most people think the Serpent is _Lucifer_. As if the Boss Himself was going to do such a lowly job. Humans think that tempting Eve was such an important job but in reality it wasn't. Demons don't care much about humans. They're just numbers, toys to play with, really. They live, they die, Hell doesn't really care. It's just the battle of will against Heaven that counts, whose side will get more souls, see?

Satan was just like, _uh, someone get up there and make some trouble, okay? _Hastur and Ligur hadn't wanted to do it. It was beneath them. So many demonic eye rolls, it got, that order. Like, _uh, why should we go all the way up there? It's so sunny and there are angels at every corner with flaming swords, I don't want to end up like a barbecue skewer, thank you._

Crowley had been just unlucky enough not to have any excuses when it was coffee break and Satan thought it was Very Important that Someone Got Up There Right Now (he had been offended that nobody jumped right at the job opportunity, how dared his demons ignore an order?). So...yeah, Crowley ended up slithering up there, forked tongue hissing soft words in Eve's ear. It could just as well have been a toad that spoke to Eve, really.

Imagine that, a toad on Eve's shoulder in Renaissance paintings. Not as glamorous, eh?

The important thing is: it's not Lucifer who is the Serpent of Eden. Man, it's not even Gadreel (really, he doesn't understand why would anyone think that,_ Gadreel_, of all people, would be the one to tempt Eve, such a bore that guy, really).

It wasn't until the New Testament that some poor schmuck thought “eh, but WHAT IF the Snake was SATAN all along?”. Of course, take away Crowley's first moment of glory, why don't you?

The thing is...pretty much no one knows Crowley existed. I mean, Crowley as _Crowley_, not the mythical figure of the Serpent who's been associated with so many myths it's embarrassing. Humans always try to come up with grand explanations, great adversaries when really, it was just Crowley messing up things for fun, all along.

But then...then, things started to _change_.

He began noticing _things_. Little things. Like tattoos and paintings of a ridiculously muscular and curly-haired Aziraphale, patron saint of queer dumbasses everywhere, almost always with Crowley at his side, _tempting_ in some way. Some were far more erm, graphic than he is comfortable with. (Look, it's okay to...to _want_ Aziraphale, _lust_ is a _sin_ after all and he's begun acknowledging the fact that it's really not that hm, er, that _maybe_ it's _okay_ and maybe he could perhaps start to think to do something about it now that the world isn't going to end and...oh please do _shut up_.)

Like...Aziraphale is _recognized_ now, apparently. He's not that anonymous anymore (perhaps he's never been, Crowley doesn't really know). And Crowley, well, he's used to being the Serpent, and being always mixed up with Lucifer, Satan (they're one and the same but humans are so confused by it) or occasionally Gadreel, it's not a big deal, he prefers the anonymity anyway.

But then...then, his _name _comes up in searches, in the news. He doesn't know how on Earth. It just shows up. Not the Aleister Crowley kind (although, really, he thinks that man just stole his name). Not even the Supernatural show kind (yes, he knows about that, he's amused by it).

Crowley has always been really bad at resisting temptations. He really wanted to hold fast to his new year's resolution to stop Googling himself. But it's so..._tempting_.

So, yes. This is how it begins. With Googling himself.

Somehow, somewhere, there is a new TV show about him. And Aziraphale. And all the events of the Armageddon-that-was-not. And a BBC Radio Show. And apparently, a book. And apparently tons and tons of _fanart_ and _fanfiction_. And it has been going on for _years_. _Decades_. But it really just...exploded, recently.

It is really embarrassing. Although, he likes the fellow they chose to depict him in the TV series. The guy (Scottish dude named David, apparently) is a bit older than he looks and Crowley's hair is not nearly as red as depicted in the show (_maybe, just maybe_ a touch of reddish hue but that's all really, it's mostly a dark brown colour) but it's quite okay, really. As far as representations go, it's not that inaccurate. And the guy is funny. A bit too obvious in his adoration of Aziraphale, however. (Does he really gaze like that at Aziraphale? _More importantly, does Aziraphale really gaze back at him that way??? _He really needs to know. For...you know. Science. Data collecting.)

He spends an awfully long time scouring the Internet, after that revelation. Aziraphale may or may not have phoned him once or thrice in the last few days. Crowley doesn't quite manage to leave his seat in front of his computer. It's downright addictive.

So, what he gathers, after one week searching the darkest corners of the web (and Tumblr. And AO3. So many things on Tumblr and AO3. Phew. It's hot in here, no, who turned up the thermostat?) is that:

1) The events that happened at the end of the previous century (the Armageddon-that-was-not) are fully known. They've been transcribed suspiciously faithfully in that Good Omens book. (He strongly suspects that Pratchett fellow to be some kind of descendant of Agnes. They really share that same manic glee in the eyes. Too bad he can't ask the guy anymore. He's a bit sad about that.)

2) Pretty much everyone knows he's in love with Aziraphale. (Satan helps him, he hopes Aziraphale will _never ever ever_ discover what the Internet is.)

3) There are _so many_ theories about his real name. Well, rather, his original angelic name. Humans are so very imaginative. (No, he's not the Archangel Raphael. Crowley isn't even a local counsellor in the hierarchy of Hell, how can he be a fallen Archangel? For Heaven's sake, stop with that already. He really is just a nobody. He helped build stars, it's true, but that doesn't necessarily mean he was important back then, he was just an assistant, really.)

4) There are not nearly as much but _still _many theories about his human name, too. (No but, really, it's just a J. It looked nice on paper between Anthony and Crowley. Stop asking.)

5) People wonder a lot (and _write_ a lot) about his his sexual orientation, his sex life, his gender presentation and so on. (That is _none_ of their business who he is or is not shagging and what he has _down there_ and how he presents. He is a demon, a fallen angel. Human labels don't apply to him.)

His fingers drum against the table, close to his computer. He's really tempted to mess around even more in there. To put more outlandish theories. To answer. To participate. (He discovered Yelp reviews of Aziraphale's bookshop, he couldn't resist there.) He thinks there's a fifty-fifty percent chance that humans believe him. Although, he's pretty sure some would say that he _can't_ be Crowley because he looks too young and his hair is not red. (Those two British dudes were correct, first.)

It's tempting. It's really really tempting.

But then, his phone rings. When he glances at it, it's Aziraphale's name on the screen. (Real Aziraphale's hair is more blond than white and he's far more of a bastard in reality but Crowley thought Michael Sheen was a delight and adorable. Is it possible to have a crush on the actor impersonating his crush? This is awfully confusing for his brain.)

(Is it bad if he kind of..._ships_ it, in the show? Is it narcissistic of himself? Is it pathetic?)

(They've never been this..._romantic_, Aziraphale and him. He's envious. He's deeply deeply envious. He wants to be that David guy. Even if it's all pretend. Even if it's supposed to be him.)

(He's already watched the show twice. He cried at the bookshop burning and yelled at Crowley-on-the-screen at the bandstand scene. This is really getting out of hand.)

He sighs. Reality is waiting. He picks up.

“_Hi, angel. What's up?”_

(Maybe one day he will tell him about how their existence is _known_ and it's a book, a radio dramatisation and a TV show, maybe he will tell him about the fandom, about all the theories floating around them. Just...perhaps not today.)

(Maybe one day he will be brave enough to tell him he loves him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So very sorry if this has been done before. I read Good Omens a little more than a decade ago and wrote some fics in French back then (as you can guess, English is not my mother tongue, so please be kind about mistakes). But then, the TV show came out. I was delighted with it, enamoured of it, and wow, I didn't think I would fall back into this fandom this hard. I've had ideas bouncing inside my head for months but I finally got up to writing this one. It's a complete mess, but then again, so is the book. This work is primarily based on the book, but I borrow from all adaptations, really.
> 
> This is _my_ take on the characters and fandom, and mine only. I do not wish to diminish or invalidate anyone's opinion. Good Omens is a beloved book, and a beloved show. I think it's amazing it sparks so much creativity and fan theories. Everyone can have an opinion. Just because I don't share yours doesn't mean yours is invalid. Please let this fandom be beautiful and respectful of everyone.
> 
> Credit where credit is due:
> 
> \- the idea of the depictions of Aziraphale as a queer angel in love with Crowley throughout history comes from the delightful [such surpassing brightness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17752469) by Handful_of_Silence
> 
> \- the Yelp reviews of Aziraphale's bookshop is by Clyde, on [Tumblr](https://itsclydebitches.tumblr.com/post/186055292445/hey-all-remember-when-i-said-id-never-do-another).
> 
> I don't know who came up with the Raphael theory first. I'm not a fan of it. I read about Gadreel too and for the life of me, I can't remember in whose fic it was (don't hesitate to educate me on this).


	2. About snakes

The problem with mobile phones, nowadays, it's that it makes it really easy to browse the Internet.

Before, you needed to buy a computer, to wait until your machine connected you to the wonders of ADSL – or something like it, Crowley is no engineer, he doesn't care about the specifics, just that it does what he wants it to do – and only _then_ could you start loading very slow pages with very basic graphic design.

But with smartphones? The temptation is _constant_.

Crowley is very bad at resisting things. He's the kind of demon who asks _why_ or _why not_ when apparently there's something he shouldn't be doing.

Turns out, his machinations and inventions have a very nasty habit to come bite him in the ass. He was rather proud of inventing the idea of smartphones (and selfies, he loved inventing those, and those thrice blessed selfie-sticks). Of course, now, he's a slave to it just like everybody else. It's just so _easy_, and the world of fandom is quite literally at his fingertips, in his pocket.

So yes. He delves deeper into the fandom. He's on a paved road to madness and he can't seem to be able to stop or pause to find the brakes (needless to say the ride is very bumpy).

Today, he's frankly bemused at how people conceive his snake form. Well, of course, they got the anatomy more or less right, in the TV show (he is secretly pleased that, yes, they did his red underbelly colour right). But he doesn't shift shapes as often as people seem to think. Yes, the process is seamless. But Crowley is always ridiculously afraid he's going to get stuck in this form one day (it already happened to him, more than once, for more than a week) and well, opposable thumbs are terribly useful, what a shame it would be to lose them for a long while. He's not a house pet and his snake form is nowhere near as cuddly or cute as fans seem to think. There are monstrous shadows, shapes and all sorts of nasty little beasts that accompany his true form. He can hide them, sure. He can appear as a normal, albeit giant, snake. He can even shrink to a normal-sized snake if he really really wants to. But it requires a conscious effort from him so, no, he can't laze around in the sun at the bookshop in snake form, fast asleep. He would permanently mentally scar people once his control slips and send them to the mad house. Besides, Aziraphale is not terribly comfortable with this form either. It's very demonic and it kind of awakes smiting instincts in him. Crowley is not a fan of smiting.

(Despite what the TV show seems to imply, he did discorporate a fair few times. Some of those fair few times were at the hands of the Principality Aziraphale, when they still considered each other the Enemy. Getting smote at the hands of the angel of the Eastern Gate, even sans flaming sword, is not pleasant.)

(Death by horse fall is even worse. Snickering demons are awful, when they read your paperwork for a new body. At least, when Aziraphale discorporated him, it was seen as a worthy way to go.)

  


So, the point is: there are a few misconceptions about his shape-shifting abilities and what he uses them for:

\- Does he use his snake form to flee embarrassing things? Pff, please. (He does it in human form, the Bentley is faster by far.)

\- As said above, he doesn't use it to laze around in the bookshop. Aziraphale would probably go all _Oh, really, __must you__? Could you change back, my dear fellow? All those hissing shadows are giving me headache_ before trying to shove him, politely but insistently, out of the door.

\- He doesn't eat _mice_ for Someone's sake! He's not really a snake, he is just a demon shaped like one.

\- He isn't cold-blooded. Again, not really a snake. Hell, nowadays, is a damp basement, sure, but it's still _hot as Hell_ in there (have you ever been to a tropical country? Yeah, that's how it feels like, but just add up a few hundred degrees) and Crowley is warmer to the touch than an average human. A doctor would probably send him to a hospital due to his apparent constant high fever. (And yes, before you ask, Aziraphale is warm to the touch too, although slightly less than him. Heaven might be cold and sterile, but angels are, after all, burning wheels of eyes or burning sets of wings or _something_ burning anyway. There is a reason why Aziraphale had a flaming sword.)

\- He doesn't have any trouble discerning colours and yes, he sees more than two. Plus, he has perfect demonic night vision. Although, he has to admit, bright clear and sunny days are not terribly pleasant for him. He isn't a fan of too much sunlight. English weather agrees with him, thankfully.

  


It's absolutely amazing how much art has been created about his snake form or his snakish habits or abilities. How many headcanons there are out there. Most of them are wrong, of course, but it's still very amusing and, more often than not, very dumbfounding.

  


He does not make a habit of wrapping himself around Aziraphale like a giant fluffy pink feather boa or hide in his sleeves or pockets or whatever. It would be terribly inappropriate and, as said above, he is neither cuddly nor a pet, and the angel would probably just smite him anyway (old habits die hard and Aziraphale is very much the _embodiment of old habits_). He also doesn't use this form to intimidate plants, ducks or annoying humans. Well. Most of the time. There's nothing quite as terrifying as a demonic form, is there?

_Like a snake_, though, he doesn't have a terrible sense of taste. Oh, he has one, just not one as refined as, say, a bibliophile hedonist angel. He eats (in small quantities, when he fancies) and drinks (in not so small quantities, when he fancies), but he doesn't have an as discerning palate as some. Not everything tastes like cardboard but...yeah. Not a great food tester. He just likes the pleasant buzz of alcohol. Although he has to admit: he has a sweet tooth. (He started to eat angel food cake as an inside joke when the angel would order devilled eggs but, well, he grew rather fond of the fluffy sugary thing.)

(Before you ask, yes, he has a forked tongue. He thinks about keeping it human-shaped most of the time, but sometimes he forgets himself.)

(No, he has never used it for very, erm, _specific_ purposes. Very sadly and to his endless despair, the angel and him are. Not. Like. That.)

It's true, he has a bit of a weakness for snake-themed clothes. At first, it was totally unconscious, his demonic form shining through whenever he manifested clothes. Like his eyes, his tattoo or his scaled feet, he didn't have much control over it. It was still miles better over the toad or lizard or giant fly atop the heads of some demons. However, bit after bit, he learned how to control it, how to wrangle it to make it _fashionable_. Fashionable belt, fashionable shoes, fashionable sunglasses, fashionable scarf (he adopted these last two after watching the TV show, he has to admit, he wore ordinary ones before that). Everything about him screams_ Serpent_, but in small details. It's very classy and he's proud of it.

(About that, he is a bit miffed at his _danger noodle_ nickname. He's far sexier than a noodle, thank you very much.)

He is looking at a gif of TV-show-himself in snake form (he's a bit sad there wasn't a bit more of that in the show, he looked very slick) on his phone when Aziraphale's voice surprises him, right next to his ear.

“Oh, it does look quite a bit like you, doesn't it?” asks the angel, happily giving bits of greens – they learned that bread is apparently bad for the ducks – at the ducks and one very bold goose amassing at their feet.

Crowley just barely escapes discorporating on the spot. His heart tries to beat the sprint world record. How did he not notice the angel arriving?

“When did you arrive?” he croaks, hiding his phone so quickly he almost sends it in another dimension.

Phew. Too close.

“Just now. Did you not hear me? I said hello. I thought you were just a bit moody, when you did not respond.” Then, a bit less cheerfully, with a bit of a doubt in his voice, his sky blue eyes clouding ever so slightly. “Is it still okay to meet at the park on Sunday mornings? I don't remember you saying not to, when I phoned you last week.”

“Of course it's still okay, angel. Of course, it still is.” he answers, more softly than he wants to. He's glad for the way his sunglasses hide his eyes. Aziraphale doesn't need to know what transpires behind them.

They settle comfortably into their routine. Feeding the ducks at St James' Park. Talking about their week. No more temptations or blessings (or well, not for work anyway), no more thwarts or wiles, just complaints and joys about their everyday human lives. They've only got each other, now.

His phone burns, in his pocket, with all this secret knowledge, these tantalizing fantasies from another fictionalized world. If only. If only.

_Don't fuck this up_, he tells himself, before shooting a discrete glance at the angel beside him. _Never fuck this up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this becoming a multi-chaptered fic? Is this becoming a collection of random musings? I don't know. I still have ideas (somewhere out there, Aziraphale discovers the Book), so who knows, maybe there will be more, maybe there won't.
> 
> I apologize again if there are mistakes. English is not my mother tongue. I do not wish to invalidate any headcanons, I just offer thoughts about my own. I wanted to put footnotes but I'm very lazy and don't know how to code them so, yeah, have lots of parenthesis.
> 
> As for why I think Crowley doesn't change shapes often and prefers to stay human-shape, it's simply because of these few lines in the book (it's the scene where he frightens the paintball guy):
> 
> _Where one of the figures had been there was something _dreadful._ He blacked out._  
_Crowley restored himself to his favorite shape._  
_"I hate having to do that," he murmured. "I'm always afraid I'll forget how to change back. And it can ruin a good suit."_  
_"I think the maggots were a bit over the top, myself," said Aziraphale, but without much rancor._


End file.
